


A Story About a Gardener and a Ghost

by UntoldGalaxies



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Taproot - Keezy Young, Bisexual Dean Winchester, First Kiss, Fluff, Gardener!Cas, Ghost!Dean - Freeform, Ghosts, Grim Reapers, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Meet-Cute, Necromancer!Cas, POV Dean Winchester, Pining, Queer Themes, Short Chapters, Temporary Character Death, You don't need to be familiar with the source material for this crossover - just Destiel, based on a graphic novel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-27 18:54:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30127323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UntoldGalaxies/pseuds/UntoldGalaxies
Summary: Dean is a ghost- numb, unseen, untouched. When he finally meets a man who can see him, he is saved from his personal hell of isolation and begins to feel things he never even felt while alive. Meanwhile, the forest grows darker, more vast, looming with the stench of death and decay.- This fic is basically a love letter to Destiel and my new favorite graphic novel, "Taproot" by Keezy Young. The plot and dialogue have been adapted/expanded from the novel to suit Dean and Cas. You do not need to read the novel before you read this fic, but this fic will spoil the plot, so you may want to. If you like this story please go check out the original, because the artwork is phenomenal and I could never do it justice. It deserves more attention. -
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Kudos: 1





	A Story About a Gardener and a Ghost

**Author's Note:**

> Support queer, non-binary artists like Keezy Young who give us beautiful queer love stories!

Getting hit by a train was less painful than Dean expected. It was basically a flash of bright light and searing heat and then nothing. One and done. 

Loneliness on the other hand…

Well, loneliness hurt like a bitch in a way Dean never could have anticipated. It never  _ stopped _ hurting. Even the benefit of having zero physical pain couldn't soothe the constant emptiness. Especially when he had no physical sensation of  _ any _ kind, creating a desperate longing for touch that only fed that  _ alone _ feeling. 

But, he couldn't complain  _ too _ much about being a ghost. It was better than being a poltergeist or a ghoul or whatever manner of eldritch horror he happened to stumble across from time to time. Those things were far from human. At least Dean was still human-adjacent. 

Dean wished he had the power to hunt down those creatures. He had seen first-hand the kind of death and devastation they caused innocent humans. But his body, or lack thereof, was only good for eerily opening a cabinet door here and there. He had absolutely no effect on monsters. They couldn't even see him half the time, and humans were completely oblivious to his presence, so he couldn't even warn them. Totally ineffectual. A hazy green apparition in the shape of a long-dead human was no match for a ghoul. 

Everything slipped through his fingers like sand, and his words were swallowed up by silence. So, Dean watched the world like a failed protector - never to be a part of it. 

It was like that for a long time. Just wandering and watching. Occasionally, he would find a human who tugged on his heartstrings. A little girl saving worms on the sidewalk after a storm. An old couple sitting on a bench feeding the birds, holding hands tenderly and telling each other stories they had both shared a thousand times before. He would follow them around for the day, just to make sure they were safe, not that he could do anything but watch if they weren't. It made him feel a little less lonely though, that even if they couldn't sense his presence, he was still connecting with them, in some small way. It was cheesy as hell, but you couldn't blame him for taking the connection wherever he could find it. 

One day, he spotted a human who made him stop dead in his tracks. No pun intended. 

A warm, soothing sensation flooded Dean, from his head to his semi-transparent toes as he looked upon this man. Just an ordinary man, selecting a small house plant from a street-vender's cart. The man smiled at the little plant with such adoration that there might as well have been cartoon hearts over his head. It was endearing.

There was something… just  _ something _ . Dean couldn't describe it. He wasn't the best with words, even when he was alive. 

Maybe that was it.  _ Alive _ . Looking at this man gave Dean a taste. Somehow, he felt a little more  _ real _ . 

The wind on his skin… 

Immediately addicted to the long-forgotten feeling, and fascinated by the man, Dean began to follow him. He trailed behind and studied the stranger as the two of them meandered their way down the quiet side streets. 

The man was about Dean's height, maybe a little shorter, and wore a tie and trench coat. He clung lovingly to the little plant in his arms and took careful steps, like he didn't want to hurt the earth beneath his feet. 

At an intersection, the man glanced over his shoulder, and Dean swore, for an instant, that a pair of impossibly blue eyes looked right at him, locking with his gaze. But then they drifted away. 

Flustered, Dean froze on the spot. He felt a blush creep up his cheeks. Which made no sense, since he had no blood. 

Why was he affected so strongly by this one person? This had never happened before. 

Shaking himself from his thoughts, Dean had to fly to catch up, floating just a few inches off the ground until he was right at the guys side, in his face, scrutinizing the odd human up close. 

Normally, Dean respected people's personal space. Ghost or not, he was no creep. But, there was something different about this human, and Dean was determined to figure out what it was.

Dean pursed his lips and kicked his feet up as he floated alongside, lounging in mid-air. 

Up close, the man's eyes (steadily focused on the ground in front of his feet) were somehow even bluer than before. A dark patch of stubble lined his jaw, and Dean had a sudden urge to run his fingers over it to feel the texture. He refrained from acting on that bizarre and intrusive thought. 

Not like he'd be able to feel anything anyway - what was  _ wrong  _ with him? 

Since when did he want to caress random men on the street? He wasn't  _ gay  _ or anything! In fact, when he was alive, he was a real ladies man. You couldn't just _ become gay  _ after death, could you? He couldn't deny, especially up close, that this man was attractive - in a totally objective non-homosexual way! 

There had to be something else to blame for his newfound fascination. 

Dean tracked a bead of sweat as it rolled down the man's forehead. It was sunny out, it must be a hot day. The kind of day where you sat in a beach chair, with an umbrella drink in your hand and your toes in the sand. But what was up with the large coat, then? 

The way the man's skin glistened made Dean wish he could still sweat. He missed the feeling after a hard day's work. Dean had many fond days like that in his human life as a mechanic, but that was way back in the 70's. Dean's gaze traveled down his neck, and watched as the man gulped heavily. It made Dean feel a little dizzy for some reason. He looked back up at the man's eyes - still trained on the ground, but something flashed in them.

It was almost as if… no. Couldn't be. Dean backed off slightly, and the tension in the man's shoulders relaxed. Nerves thundered in Dean's chest, like a phantom sensation of a beating heart. For a moment, he thought the man could sense him, or even  _ see  _ him - like he was trying his best not to look at Dean. 

Completely bewitched, Dean forgot to watch where he was going (not that he had much need to normally), and smacked directly into a window. He bounced back with surprise. 

Even though no one could see him, Dean still felt a little embarrassed. More often than not, he would phase through walls and other objects, but every so often he could interact physically with certain things. It usually happened at completely random times, which was more than slightly frustrating.

Dean used the door this time, trailing the man into the small restaurant. Then he waited and joined the man on the patio, watching him eat his ramen. 

Dean sighed. He missed food. 

To pass the time, Dean catalogued every movement and expression, wanting to learn as much as possible about this enigma of a person. 

If people could see him right now, Dean would look totally stupid. He was laying lengthwise across the picnic table, propped up on his elbow with his cheek in one hand, his other hand phasing idly through the leaves of the houseplant. Worst of all, he was watching a guy eat like some kind of lovestruck teenager.

Being constantly invisible was usually torture but it had it’s perks. If no one could see him, he didn't have to feel ashamed about staring so intently at a man's lips as they wrapped around chopsticks and sucked up noodles. 

Every new thing he learned was enthralling, like the way the man dabbed his napkin against his face - softly. Almost formally. 

The man's eyes looked anywhere but through Dean.

With a sigh, the man sat his napkin down, and lay his hand casually on the table.

Dean could reach out and touch, if he wanted to - lay his hand on top. He'd tried that before with others, just needing some kind of contact. But it always depressed the hell out of him when ultimately neither of them could feel it. 

He was too curious, and his hand inched hesitantly closer. He double and triple checked the man's face to see if there was any kind of reaction, but he only stared soulfully into the distance, somewhere over Dean's shoulder as he chewed the last of his meal. 

The man's finger suddenly twitched. It was a microscopic movement, but it spooked Dean nonetheless and he pulled back guiltily, his movement so abrupt that he tumbled backwards off the table and had to catch himself mid-air before hitting the ground. He was so out of it, he might have phased right through the earth and ended up in China or something.

Dean did his best to brush off his wounded pride. He was making a total fool of himself in front of his new favorite (thankfully oblivious) human! 

The man sighed again and got up from his seat.

Dean followed him again - this time, from a more standard, respectable creeper-distance and not right up in his breathing space. 

They walked up to the storefront of a family-owned convenience store. Dean wondered what the man would buy. What was his favorite chocolate bar? Did he play the lottery? Holy crap! What if he bought a skin-man! He was just a normal guy after all, it was possible. The thought was somehow baffling and Dean had to remind himself not to be a perv since he was already a stalker. The only thing worse than a stalker was a pervy stalker. 

The man didn't go inside the store. Instead he veered to the left and walked up the steps of what looked like a fancy fire escape. 

Again, Dean followed as the man fumbled for his keys, tucking the houseplant safely under one arm as they approached a door to the upstairs unit.

This must be where he lives, Dean figured. 

Generally, Dean stopped short of following people into their  _ homes _ . Felt like a violation. He had a designated house he visited frequently to watch TV, with a woman named Eileen, but even then, he watched from outside her window, relying entirely on the subtitles (Eileen was deaf, and had good taste in movies).

He just  _ had  _ to know what this man's home was like though. He wanted to know anything and everything about this... this strange fellow who made Dean feel…  _ things _ . No one made him  _ feel _ things - not anymore! It was unprecedented, and worthy of investigation. Or at least that was Dean’s justification for trespassing. 

The key paused in the lock and a moment of tense silence passed before the man spoke, low and gravely. "Why are you following me?"

**Author's Note:**

> The whole story is mapped out. More to come soon. 
> 
> Also, bit of a long-shot but if any artists out there are a fan of Destiel and Taproot, and want to draw the characters in the style of Keezy Young, I would love to feature your art here. I can imagine it vividly but do not have the skills myself.


End file.
